Eyes
by Alania Black
Summary: Draco is looking at Harry's eyes. HD, slash. Weird :


Hi. I found this hiding in here since last November, and I decided to post it, as I haven't posted a Harry/Draco yet. So, read and enjoy. The notes from now are the original notes, before I went crazy and gave up chocolate for a year!

This is my first attempt at Harry and Draco. This is also my first attempt at this style of writing, so please be nice! And if you can't be nice then be nasty! He he he! Ahem no, be... constructive. Umm... please?

WARNINGS: Slash, AU, no relation to timeline whatsoever... the usual. Very, very mild spoilers that I doubt you'd get unless you were looking... Don't look! No, bad! Boy love, so if you don't like gay, then don't bother reading this, or if you do then certainly do not flame me afterwards, it'll be your own fault, I warned you not to read this, it is here for the amusement of others like me who's head spins in the most wonderful ways whenever they think of Harry, Draco, lots of passion and an empty room...

DISCLAIMER: Please, I'm not _that_ good. I... don't... own... it. There, I said it, you can't sue me! Pokes tongue out, then bursts into tears I want it! I want it!Runs off sobbing hysterically, bumps into Harry and Draco making out and promptly forgets what she's upset about

SUMMARY: Draco is looking at Harry's eyes. One shot. Slash, AU, Meaningless Drabble, the usual.

Eyes.

The hurt in his eyes was shocking.

Then again, I'm shocked every time I look into his eyes.

They are so... green, bright and sparkling, indescribable... beautiful.

They hold such a vast array of emotions. They never cease to amaze me.

What is shocking, though, on this occasion, is the hurt that I caused, without meaning to.

I wasn't _trying _to hurt him.

To get him back for hurting me.

He hurts me by just _being_. Being okay, being perfectly able to survive without me.

Without thinking of me.

Seeing me.

_Needing_ me.

Like I need him.

I am shocked by the amount of pain I caused him by telling him the truth.

I simply said three little words.

He just looked at me.

Pained.

Hurt.

I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted him to be happy. Or at least, to acknowledge my presence.

Since I aided in bringing down Voldemort and my father, as well as bringing back Sirius, we lost the rivalry.

We stopped fighting, arguing.

I realized this hurt me more than the arguments, the constant stream of hatred.

He didn't hate me.

He didn't feel _anything_ for me.

And it _hurt_.

So I didn't expect to see that hurt look in his eyes when I told him the truth.

I love him.

I always have.

He feels nothing for me.

So why does this hurt him? He should be disgusted, go back to hating me.

That's what I want.

For him to hate me.

To feel something for me.

To let me be a part of his life again.

I didn't want to hurt him.

"Why? Is this some kind of a joke?" He spat at me.

Anger. That's a start. Keep it up, we'll get to hatred soon.

"Joke? Me? But I have no sense of humour, you said so yourself. Why would I joke?"

His emerald eyes flashed furiously behind his glasses.

I love his eyes.

And his unruly hair.

And his sweet face.

And his perfectly toned chest. Quidditch really did him good.

And his arse.

And his – actually, I like it all. It has never once, since I played against him in third year and realized with a jolt that I was staring at his sexy body, failed to turn me on.

Which is becoming a problem at the moment.

"Why? Why? I'll tell you why! Because you found out how I feel about you and decide you were bored so a bit of torment wouldn't go amiss!"

_What_!

How he feels... but that sounds like he's implying that he...

Oh my god!

He's... he... Harry Potter is in love with me!

Quicker than you could say 'Quidditch' I had him pressed against the wall, pinning him there with my body as I emphasise through slow, delicious friction, just how much I was _not_ joking.

"Does it feel like I'm joking to you?" I whisper hoarsely through sudden ragged breaths, before claiming his lips in our first sweet kiss.

He stayed still for a second, frozen in shock, before pressing back into me and kissing me with extraordinary passion.

That was the final proof, final conformation that he loves me.

Harry Potter is in love with me, Draco Malfoy.

And I love it.

A/N. I was bored so I just came up with this. If it is at all crazy, blame it on too much sugar (post-Halloween candy fest), too much caffeine (did you ever stop to think how much caffeine there is in cherry coke, or what consuming 3 cans within 3 hours does to you? I didn't till I read this) and a distinct lack of sleep (I'm moving again, hurrah!).

Please review, even if it's to tell me never to go anywhere near coke again. I'll take it! Please!

Go on, you're here now : ¬ ). Please!


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